


Human Remains

by Nicor_Fyrweorm



Series: Equals One [31]
Category: The Transformers (Cartoon Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicor_Fyrweorm/pseuds/Nicor_Fyrweorm
Summary: Megatron had expected to find humans.





	Human Remains

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic depiction of injuries.
> 
> Migrated from FanFiction.Net

Despite all the setbacks, Megatron can only look up at their future spaceship with pride. 

They may be stranded on an organic mudball after four million solar orbits' stasis, according to local time measurements, and with the _Nemesis_ lost, but there are more than enough materials around that the construction of their new ship is going without trouble. 

And the Autobots will never bother them again, he made sure of it _personally._

The only trouble they could maybe find, and he thinks it _really_ loosely, would be the native dominant species. 

Humans. 

What a stupid name. 

Then again, naming their planet 'Earth' after the land they live on is equally stupid. 

What kind of creator would saddle their creations with _those_ designations? 

Or perhaps there are some nuances with the earthlings' language and word meanings that Megatron just doesn't understand. 

Not that he _wants_ to. 

This is just a momentary delay. Soon, their ship will be ready, and they'll return to Cybertron and eliminate the remaining Autobots with Prime no longer messing with his plans and— 

_Victory._

Yes, perfect name for their new ship. 

Megatron smirks, servos on his hips as he once more admires the quickly assembling vessel. 

Oh, yes. Things are finally looking up. 

“Megatron!” 

Aaaand… there goes his peace. 

A scowl replacing his smile, the Decepticon leader turns around, hoping for good news and the necessary materials, but readying for a fuming Seeker and empty servos. 

He gets neither. 

Starscream is flying back in root mode instead of the alien 'F-16 Falcon' that would allow him to blend in with the natives, carrying a dirtied Rumble on an arm and some kind of tiny cylindrical tube in the free servo. 

A… barrel? What? 

Confusion smoothing his scowl, Megatron watches as his Second touches ground, finally noticing the unusual twitchiness and worry on the Flier's faceplate, the same blackish liquid practically covering the Cassette also on the larger mech's arms and legs and staining the oil barrel—that's a fuel source they could use, isn't it?— 

And Soundwave rushes past Megatron's side fast enough that the warlord almost pulls his cannon on him. 

That's when Rumble breaks down in hysterics, cuddling closer to his carrier as soon as he's picked from the Seeker's grasp, his siblings gathering worriedly around the Communications Officer's legs, with Ravage curling protectively around an anxious Frenzy. 

“Megatron,” Starscream calls again, lower than before but with the same uneasiness the warlord didn't notice the first time. 

He’s clutching the oil barrel tightly with both servos, looking almost _worried_ as he walks around the distressed family to finally stand in front of the Decepticon leader. 

By now, the rest of the Command Trine and the Reflectors have abandoned their posts to see what the commotion is about, crowding a barely respectful distance away and listening attentively. 

For a moment, the briefest of nanokliks, Megatron considers snarling and curling a servo around Starscream's neck-cables to berate him for whatever foolish mistake he committed—besides flying in _root mode,_ for Pit's sake—and that the rest of Decepticons will have to fix alongside finishing the ship. 

But Starscream looks up at him, and the thought is immediately deleted from his processor. 

He has seen many expressions on his Second's faceplate, but he can count with just one dactyl how many times he's been subjected to the same helpless and bordering-on-terrified look as he is now. And Megatron _doesn't want to think about it._

So, he answers with the utmost seriousness and three words. 

“What is it.” 

Starscream opens his mouth, closes it, and takes a step back while looking at the ground. 

Another step back, and another, and he looks up again. All Decepticons are silent and completely still with tense expectation as the Seeker lowers himself on one knee, extends his arms as far from his body as possible and, slowly and shakily, turns the oil barrel in his servos upside down and pulls away the bent plate serving as a crude lid. 

An awkwardly curled up figure falls to the dusty desert ground as Starscream swiftly moves away. 

The native expression 'wait with bated breath' seems extremely fitting for their current situation. 

Slowly, awkwardly, the crumpled figure stretches, face down on the surely scorching hot sand, revealing what Megatron's new data packages immediately identify as a human. 

An incredibly dirty and foul-smelling human. 

Still, he waits, because Starscream wouldn't be nervously crouching at a way too excessive distance for nothing – pranks like this are more Skywarp's style, after all. 

One of the mechs behind him isn't so patient, though, because Megatron can hear shuffling— 

With a guttural moan that echoes ominously in their very struts, the 'human' looks up. 

Megatron has never seen one before, he knows no more than whatever Teletraan saw fit to update them with, but he still _knows_ humans should have a nose. And lips. And cheeks unpierced by broken cheekbones, and red fluid gushing out of damaged areas like ripped flesh and scratched skin and _a slagging throat slashed open._

But this one doesn't. 

Yet, it growls and releases that haunting sound _again_ as it stands up – revealing a torso ripped open and the fleshy inner workings spilling out. Uncoordinatedly, it approaches Megatron, dragging a leg that is _also_ bearing ripped clothing and blood-less injuries. 

And Megatron takes a step back, barely fighting down a shiver, unlike the Decepticon 'Elite' gasping and whimpering all around them. 

Tattered arms are raised, and he sees there are three dactyls missing from one of its servos, one stump remaining while the other two seemingly forcibly ripped off, judging by the damage to the servo itself. Regardless of its injuries, the creature continues its unsteady walk, never focusing yet never faltering, and the warlord takes another step back as his fusion cannon heats up— 

Starscream shoots. 

Once more lying on the ground, with almost three quarters of its body missing, the not-human _still_ moans and tries to reach for them. 

Someone's praying to Primus behind his back, another babbling with a panicked voice, but Megatron ignores them, raising his own weapon instead and finally vaporizing what remains of the… the _thing._

Only a black stain quickly covered by reddish sand, and it _still_ haunts them. 

It's almost as if he can hear its moans in the breeze… 

Soundwave shivers, helm swiveling towards where the wind is coming from, and Megatron feels as if his spark had just flickered out. 

A quick look back at Starscream's slightly more composed but still shaken frame, and the Decepticon leader realizes that this is _not_ an isolated issue. 

When his Second finally returns his gaze, they need no words. 

Megatron had expected to find humans. 

As he looks at the growing mass on the horizon, he realizes they only found bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> That's what my brain gets out of adapting 'human' prompts to Cybertronian. Huh.
> 
> I actually like it. Might right some drabbles for it, somewhere down the road.


End file.
